Time Bubble

Time is an open-ended bubble.
Will it pop?  I think not
Until it empties each grain
Onto the infinite beach, or
The soul understands trouble.

Time is a bubble because it’s round.
Will it pop?  I think not
Though its skin is translucent,
Pure and so thin as to not be
Seen quietly, nor make sound.

Outside the bubble, I do exist.
Will it pop?  I think not
Before we come full circle,
Back to a bright new beginning
Hard to see through the mist.

The bubble floats up into the air.
Will it pop?  I think not
While brushing the baby’s cheek,
Who reaches upward but misses;
True dreams time will not share.

Oh, the bubble changes its thin form.
Will it pop?  I think maybe
It will tilt and fall toward
The sky below, to empty the
Clouds from its starry room.

The bubble’s skin becomes thickly wet.
Will it pop?  I think maybe
It hangs in eagerness
To spill out the sands, and rise
Up newborn not quite yet.

The moon is round, absolutely true.
Will it shine?  I think so
To light the universe
In time to meet the bright sun,
Dawning before it’s due.

The stars are round, but no, that’s not true.
Will they shine?  Certainly so
To light eternity
Their points will pop the bubble
Dawning because it’s due.